


Wolf At The Door

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Derek always wants to mark Stiles.  Stiles’ skin reddens so easily, all Derek needs to do is scrape his stubble across it for it to start to pink up.  It’s addictive, listening to the noises that Stiles lets out; the soft mutterings whenever Derek uses his teeth against Stiles’ flesh; the groans whenever Derek’s fingers grip a little harder than they would if he were human.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf At The Door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the porn battle. Prompts: animalistic, marks.

Derek likes the way his dick vanishes inside Stiles’ ass; how he can look down and see them connected like this, in ways he never thought he’d get to have. This close to the full moon, it’s almost primal for him. The urge to bite and mark and collar Stiles nearer the surface than it is any other time of the month. Derek _always_ wants to mark Stiles. Stiles’ skin reddens so easily, all Derek needs to do is scrape his stubble across it for it to start to pink up. It’s addictive, listening to the noises that Stiles lets out; the soft mutterings whenever Derek uses his teeth against Stiles’ flesh; the groans whenever Derek’s fingers grip a little harder than they would if he were human.

Ever since Derek told Stiles that he can control his healing, Stiles gives as good as he gets. He’ll place his teeth against Derek’s shoulder and bite down almost hard enough to draw blood, will lick against the mark and drag his fingers across it later. It makes Derek’s veins throb with belonging, with pride, with knowing that Stiles loves him enough to want to mark him. Derek’s never had this before.

Stiles lets himself be pushed face down against the mattress as Derek fucks into him; his head turned to the side as he squirms back against Derek, letting him know he wants this as much as Derek does. Derek’s fingers trace all along Stiles’ back, his other hand holding Stiles still as he fucks into him. It’s slow at first, because Derek loves hearing Stiles whine with impatience, fingers twining in the sheets as he tries to rise onto his knees. Derek laughs softly, leaning over and kissing his way down Stiles’ spine until Stiles is shivering, his voice rough as he cries out.

Neither of them can take it slow for long, and eventually Derek gives in, fucking Stiles hard until there’s nothing but the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the room. Stiles’ skin flushes a deep red and Derek covers him with his body, teeth grazing against Stiles’ shoulder and biting down. He doesn’t break the skin, but Stiles groans, his body jolting and trembling as he comes apart underneath Derek.

Derek soothes the mark with his tongue, grinds his hips against Stiles’ ass and waits for Stiles to nod. It’s their signal, and Derek goes for it, pushing himself inside Stiles over and over again until he’s coming, his hands gripping Stiles arms so hard there’ll be bruises in the morning. Stiles lets out a grunt when Derek collapses on him, but turns his head, nosing at Derek’s cheek with a smile. “Gonna stay in me forever?” he mumbles, voice rough.

“Gimme a moment.” Derek takes a deep breath before he moves off Stiles, inhaling the scent of _them_ , and then he slowly, gently, pulls out of Stiles. Pressing his fingers against Stiles’ hole, Derek watches the way his come has started to trickle out and idly wonders if he could make Stiles come again if he started to lick it up.

“Stoppit,” Stiles says, squirming like he knows what Derek is thinking. Kicking his leg out, he rolls over, sleepily reaching for Derek. “C’mere,” he yawns, his eyes only half open.

Sliding up the bed, Derek gathers Stiles up, rearranging their limbs until they’re tangled up together. He brushes a hand through Stiles’ hair and kisses his slack lips. “Mine,” he says roughly. “You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” Stiles says quietly, his fingers stroking a soothing pattern against Derek’s skin. “Always.”


End file.
